For the Love of the Lady
by default.anomaly
Summary: Three days had passed since the fall of the Luskan army. The people of Neverwinter rejoiced over the victory and mourned for those they lost as they've started to rebuild their homes. In midst of all this stands Marcus Hallenas, hero of Neverwinter.


**For the Love of the Lady**

Everything had changed, everything was different. The city of Neverwinter had suffered greatly during the last few months, first through the Wailing Death and then through the attack of the Luskan army. The Lord's Alliance had gathered and sent an army in the defence of city, even conscripts from Waterdeep had marched to its aid, but none had reached the battle in time. Neverwinter had been required to stand alone as Luskan threw everything from mere soldiers to summoned demons into the battle. In the middle of this great battle stood a few lone characters who were essential for both sides of the struggle and it had been a severe loss for that side which had lost the most of it's champions. For the Neverwinter defences stood Lord Nether himself, Lord of Neverwinter, and Aarin Gend, spymaster. For the Luskan army stood Maugrim Korothir, Archmage, and Morag, Queen of the ancient Creator Race. But those were not the only ones, there were two other champions who had walked the path of twilight and whose names would forever echo in the shadow of Neverwinter's history: Aribeth de Tylmarade, former Paladin of Tyr, and Marcus Hallenes, hero of Neverwinter. Aribeth, beautiful and graceful, had been a renowned servant of the just god but in the end her spirit was corrupted and she had fallen in battle. Marcus, courageous and humble, had answered Neverwinter's call for heroes but had gone through more then he could ever imagine: not only had he uncovered the plot behind the Wailing Death but he had also ventured all the way into the heart of Luskan and discovered the evil that threatened all life of the northlands. At the end, when all seemed lost, he had returned to Neverwinter and brought down those who upheld the balance in the Luskan army. When this task was done the lines of Luskan broke, their magic faded and the last counter-offence of the Neverwinter's defence was total. In the midst of this struggle, which few knew the details of, Marcus had done the one task that none other could have done and which none other would ever had to face. In mortal combat he had slain the Lady Aribeth, the woman of his love and admiration.

_It was there, at Maugrim's sanctuary, the battle had been settled. At first their meeting had begun with talks, in which Aribeth carried a voice of blood and obsession. He didn't know what he could expect of her at this hour but for some reason, probably the one the bards calls love in their songs of epic tales, he tried to speak with her. Her words were ferocious while his were defiant; he stated that she could never defeat Neverwinter while she claimed it was already too late for the city and it's denizens. The words that followed then revealed the bloodthirst upon her tongue and within her mind, how her very spirit screamed for revenge over how Fenthick had been executed to satisfy the mob. That was not an entirely unknown passion for Marcus but those days were over and he realised at last what would occur within the next few seconds. However, Lady Tylmarade had not yet seized to surprise him and when she confessed her role as a puppet in Morag's scheme and how she would eventually perish through the Queen's viciousness he could swear that he saw a small hint of sadness in her eyes. The same sign of emotion was probably what hindered her from noticing how Marcus slid his left hand down to his belt and gently grabbed the handle of his trusted morning star. He knew that Linu La'Neral, his friend and trusted comrade in arms, stood right behind him and would match his move. That was when Aribeth snapped, angrily, with a few last words of blood and empty promises before she raised her sword and prepared to cast her first spell. Marcus Hallenes, with a scimitar in his right hand and a morning star in his left, stood his ground._

Three days had gone by since the battle ended and Neverwinter claimed its victory but there were signs of people's suffering everywhere. Marcus had been given quarters at Lord Nasher's castle and except for a short ceremony, which Lord Nasher had hosted at the central square; he hadn't left the room in all this time. Linu, the elven cleric of Selûne, who had been at his side since just before he left for Port Llast, was on her way back to Waterdeep. After the battle they had only shared a short time together with the rest of Neverwinter's heroes, making up for the last few days with food and drinks. At the Trade of Blades there had been a celebration worthy of any champion. Commoners, soldiers and nobles shared conversations, laughter and after too much to drink also humility. The following day a ceremony had been held at the town square, honouring those who had fallen in the battle but also cherishing those who had fought for Neverwinter. Marcus had been summoned to the podium upon where Lord Nasher had stood and there he had had been given an amulet, a token of Neverwinter, that would grant him the rank of champion. The hundreds of people that had gathered cheered in his honour but Marcus did not feel very deserving of their praise. Linu stood among the commoners as well but she did not cheer his name for she knew what tormented him and she saw that the pain would linger in him for a great deal of time. On the evening of that day she had visited him in Lord Nasher's castle and bid him fare well, for she was to depart for Waterdeep. Marcus hadn't been much for words that evening and had only wished her the best of luck. She had kissed his forehead, wished him the blessing of Selûne and that was last he saw of her. He would never admit it openly but he was going to miss her, together they had been through a lot.

_Even now, at this very moment, when she stood alone without deity or allies she was much stronger then he had foreseen. She was armed only with a bastard sword, a blade blessed in ways he didn't dare to imagine, but she was still a difficult foe. To make it all worse Aribeth handled herself perfectly even when outnumbered two to one. Linu kept herself just behind the melee, she had learned that Marcus was an excellent fighter and would make better use of his surroundings if she kept out of his way. This was a tactic which would also keep her away from most of the harm when they were facing a stronger enemy and she could better watch his back as well as prepare her counter-spells. However, this wasn't any Luskan defender or any dwarven bounty hunter they were fighting: this was Aribeth de Tylmarade, perhaps the most capable of all warriors in Fearun. Every single time that Linu was preparing to cast a spell Aribeth lashed at her with her sword, even though Marcus always tried to move into a position where he could block the former paladin's path. Linu's spells were disturbed and most of the times to no practical use. Marcus had learned to use his weapons, these specific weapons, in an almost perfect motion. The blade in his right was used mostly to parry his opponent's strikes while the morning star in his left hand was used to counter their movement and throw them off balance. Aribeth learned this tactic quite soon and started to use it to her advantage. The morning star was at times a very efficient weapon but also somewhat clumsy and whenever he tried to wave it at her body she simply stepped aside quickly to strike at his arm, which was by then stretched and exposed. She managed to land a few perfect blows and soon all of the three could notice blood trickle from underneath the plates in Marcus' armour. This didn't look to be his fight after all._

Marcus' quarters were small and quite gloomy with very little decorations or furniture. It had been quite a while, before he even came to Neverwinter, that he used to enjoy the warmth of a cosy bed but he didn't want to start getting comfortable just now. After the ceremony Marcus had spent most of his time by himself in his small room. Every now and then the servants at the castle stopped by to see if he was feeling well or if he needed something in particular. However, after a while they stopped coming by because they realised that even though Marcus was physically in the room his mind was far away. He spent the days going over what equipment he had left from travelling to Port Llast, Luskan, the northern wilderness and back. Some of the items he found in his pack he couldn't recall ever picking up but there were some who brought back fond memories of the adventure he had been through. At times he could smile, just a little, at some of the people he had met and some things that had been done but it seemed like the bad memories haunted him. Every time his mind wandered he always found himself standing before the moment with Aribeth. Even in her most darkest hour she was the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes on.

_Both of them were starting to get tired but what was worse for Marcus was the fact he seemed to be the only one who was injured. Multiple paths of drawn blood had been seeped from the small fissures in his full plate armour and the male fighter could feel every bit pain from every single wound. Aribeth didn't seem very concerned although Marcus was certain his weapons had found their targets several times. There was only the slow movement of her chest that revealed that her stamina had started to falter but for him that wasn't much for an advantage since his was no better. The combat had dulled somewhat; both of the fighters seemed more focused on when to strike rather then where. Linu hadn't drawn much notice to her during the last few moments but Marcus was sure she was still there, right behind him. He didn't dare to turn his gaze from Aribeth to make sure his suspicion was true, his foe would surely use the opportunity, but all of the sudden Aribeth spoke. Her tone revealed more of the poverty that her stature would only show a shred of evidence for. She questioned his loyalty and devotion to Neverwinter but not for humour but admiration. This was something he had also addressed to himself several times without finding an answer but now he had no choice and simply told her that he believed in what was good and right. He didn't realise how true he had been to himself with that kind of answer until after Aribeth's reaction. The woman before him broke her gaze from his and confessed that she had lost every tie to those convictions when her lover died and the way she expressed herself told Marcus that maybe there was still some kind of hope for her. Marcus told her there was still hope and when she asked him what kind of hope there was in response he simply stated that she could make right for her wrongs. She went quiet for a moment and before she spoke her body trembled but Marcus noticed how both of her hands tightened around the handle of her sword. He realised that if he would fail here then he would have to be ready to fight and defeat her. Silently his weapons shifted from the one hand to the other, bringing his scimitar to his left and the morning star to his right._

On the evening of the third day after Neverwinter's victory Marcus had decided to leave. He could probably have stayed and made a living for himself as a captain of the guards or perhaps even as a captain in Lord Nasher's personal guard. If he asked around in the city he would most likely find all kinds of job offerings, anyone would probably enjoy having the hero of Neverwinter working for them, but everywhere he looked he was reminded of the tragedies. Families had been broken, homes had been destroyed and innocent lives had been spilt. Marcus had seen even more of this, all over the cold north, during his search for Maugrim's cult and the Words of Power. War was a tragedy of it's own. Just after having packed a bag with food, water and some of the equipment he had retained he was ready to leave. By his side hanged his trusted scimitar but he left the morning star in the room of Lord Nasher's castle. Most of the equipment he had left behind as well. The ring he had received from Tomi Undergallow was on his finger though and Linu's amulet was hanging around his neck. He had also left behind the mithril plate armour and the only clothes he had was the same outfit he had worn when first arriving in Neverwinter, when he was hot-headed and ready to taste of glory. Now, six months later, he had tasted enough and had found it to be quite bitter.

_She had asked him how she could redeem herself for all of the things she had done. Hundreds had died, innocents and defenders alike, all because of her. The enemy had come to her because she sought vengeance and she had enjoyed giving them whatever they needed to make Neverwinter pay in blood. Marcus knew this and couldn't find any words of meaning that could tell another story but he did not want to fight her but to save her. He had to say something and that was when he suggested that she should surrender not for herself but for the suffering people of Neverwinter. Her grip around the handle of her sword started to shake just then and she questioned why she should help the people who had sentenced her beloved one to death. Marcus, who then thought all was lost, took one step forward and asked her to surrender for his sake. Startled she looked towards the helmet that covered his face. Her blue eyes were covered in the dark shadows of her new self but it was still the gaze of the divine being, Aribeth. A quiet moment passed by, during which the only sound that escaped them was from their breathing. Then her eyes fell to ground once again and with a sad tone she confessed that she had always held him in high regard but for her crimes there was only one judge. Marcus knew what she meant to do before she even spoke those final words. Suddenly, swiftly, her hands grasped the handle of her bastard sword completely and then swung the blade. She stroked at his left side as usual but this time this he wasn't as helpless as before. The blades came together with a loud clinging sound and Marcus groaned as he felt the pain of her strike move through his arm but that was nothing compared to her shrike as the mighty blow of his morning star hit her side. Aribeth fell to the ground, her back shattered and her honoured lost. At first he couldn't believe that he had defeated her. He kicked her sword away from her limp body before he squatted down by her side. She was still alive but she was obviously in pain, she didn't move any part of her body from her waist and downward. Marcus had removed his helmet and held her hand as Aribeth took her final breath and spoke her last words. They were mere mutterings clouded with the blood that was pumping into her lounges but her gaze and smile told him what she wanted to say and as she finally stopped trembling he kissed her hand fare well. Marcus felt Linu's comforting touch to his shoulder as he wept._

The darkness of the night had come to Neverwinter when Marcus finally passed the doors to Lord Nasher's castle. Just before that moment he had met Aarin in the hallway but they hadn't exchanged word. Aarin, the spymaster of Neverwinter, had stopped to greet the great hero but he hadn't received any kind of response other than a friendly nod. The spymaster had watched the champion walk away, further down the hallway, to finally disappear outside. Aarin suspected they would probably meet again but Marcus didn't have any thoughts that would agree. The streets were quite crowded for being night, there were many guards and homeless that was walking back and forth. Many of them recognised Marcus and cherished his name but he didn't stop to acknowledge their praise, not out of arrogance but of weariness. He made haste as good as could but didn't reach the city gates before they had closed for the night. For the first and last time he made use of being the hero of Neverwinter. The captain of the guards authorized that the gates would open if Neverwinter's champion desired to pass. Before Marcus eventually did pass the captain wished him well and that he should return soon but he never did. In fact, Marcus Hallenes was never heard of ever again.


End file.
